


Built a fire just to keep me warm

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Kink!verse [4]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: A whisper of breathplay, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Fingering, Biting, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Episode: s04e03 Asbestos Fest, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, I realise praise kink is a recurring theme in these, Kink Negotiation, Light Bondage, M/M, POV David Rose, Patrick Brewer: Service Top, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, a tiny little bit of crying during sex (but in a good way everyone's fine), but this one is just praise kink all the way down baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24837226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: “I don’t think I compliment you enough, David,” he repeats steadily. “And I know you like being told how good you are. So I thought, while I’ve got you exactly where I want you, that I might tell you all the nice things I think about you.”
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Kink!verse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768552
Comments: 62
Kudos: 320





	Built a fire just to keep me warm

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to another kink!verse instalment! Reading the earlier stories is not required (though, as the very biased author I obviously recommend it); they stand alone and are essentially canon-compliant (just with a different first meeting and their relationship being a month longer than canon) so that folks can tap out of any kinks/fetishes/etc that aren't for them as we go.
> 
> Please assume that if you don't see something being negotiated on-screen, they've discussed it off-screen. Also, just a reminder to please not take your kink advice from fanfic. Do your research first, and not from AO3.
> 
> Shoutout to the folks in the bar who, when I said "David Rose Appreciation Hours! What compliments is Patrick giving him?" gave me such a long list I couldn't include them all. Luckily praise kink is a recurring theme with these two so I'm sure they'll all find a home ;)
> 
> Title is from Taylor Swift.

When David stumbles off the stage after Asbestos Fest Patrick is there waiting for him, grinning, and it’s simultaneously the best and worst part of his day. The best because it’s Patrick, and being with Patrick always warms him from the inside out; the worst because it has occurred to David once or twice that the one shining beacon of losing all their money had been that Patrick would never, ever have to see The Number… or David with straightened hair. But Patrick only laughs at him a little bit, which is very magnanimous of him, as they head out to the car park.

“Come home with me?” Patrick asks, and he sounds casual but when David looks over at him his face is hopeful.

David bites his lip. More time with Patrick is always good, but when Ray’s home their evenings usually consist of watching a movie and making out for a while and David really wants to fix this whole situation on his head as soon as possible.

“Maybe I should just head back to the motel,” he says hesitantly.

“Sure, David, I can drop you off,” Patrick says lightly. “It’s a shame, though. Ray’s out, and I thought you might want to come over. But if you’re too tired…” he lets his voice trail off teasingly, obviously well aware that David will jump on any privacy they can get. 

“When’s he out until?” David asks, already knowing he’s going to say yes.

“Eleven.”

“Okay.” David glances down at his phone to check the time. “Yeah, that gives us a bit of time, we can— why are you looking at me like that?”

Patrick’s mouth has curled into a truly dangerous smirk. “Eleven  _ a.m.,” _ he says carefully. “Tomorrow.”

_ Oh. _ David mentally catalogues what he needs for an overnight trip and how fast he can pack it.

“As long as you let me shower this out first,” he says, tugging at his hair. If he’s not mistaken Patrick  _ pouts _ a little at that, and David is willing to explore almost any conceivable kink at least once but he draws the line at keeping his hair like this for longer than completely necessary.

“If you shower at my place, it’s a deal,” Patrick says as he unlocks the car.

* * *

Two hours later David has showered and completed his skincare routine in Ray’s bathroom, his hair a little damp but otherwise back to normal. In a fit of uncharacteristic bravery he doesn’t get dressed, wrapping a towel around his waist before stepping out of the bathroom with a cloud of steam following him. When he opens Patrick’s bedroom door Patrick is sitting cross-legged on the bed clad only in a pair of navy boxer briefs, holding two sets of leather cuff restraints in his hands. He grins bashfully when David sucks in a breath, closing the door firmly.

“Is this okay?” Patrick asks, and David nods quickly.

“We’re going to talk later about you going sex shopping without me, but yes please,” he grins, dropping the towel with a flourish. He’s not even hard, but Patrick’s eyes darken as they rake down his body anyway. 

Patrick pulls himself off the bed and takes off his underwear while David lies down, his head resting on the pillow as he brings his hands up to the bars on the headboard. He spreads his legs automatically, and Patrick tucks a hand under each knee to get David to bend them, feet flat on the bed. 

“Wish we had a spreader bar here,” he murmurs, climbing back onto the bed to kneel between David’s calves. “Guess you’ll just have to be good and keep your feet there, huh?”

David groans. “Yeah,” he says, biting his lip before adding hesitantly, “I could… keep some stuff here. If you wanted.”

Patrick’s eyes widen as a slow, pleased smile spreads across his face. Then he’s swooping up to kiss David, deep and sure, cupping David’s jaw in both hands. “I’d like that,” he whispers when he pulls away. He looks giddy, and David’s not sure exactly what he did to put that look on Patrick’s face but he’d like to figure out how to do it again.

Patrick affixes the cuffs to the bed, and then around David’s wrists. He runs his finger around them when he’s done, checking their tightness, then to David’s surprise he drops a kiss on one palm before he pulls back, settling back down between David’s legs and running soft fingers up the inside of David’s thighs. The hickeys Patrick left there at Stevie’s are almost entirely faded now, and David recognises the glint in Patrick’s eye about half a second before he leans down. 

The first bite starts surprisingly soft, just a hint of teeth before Patrick sucks hard into the soft skin. He slides his lips just an inch or so along before sinking his teeth in again, making David gasp. And then another bite, and another, until there’s hardly a space left unmarked — and then Patrick switches to the other leg to repeat the process. 

By the time Patrick sits back up, David’s inner thighs are more purple than flesh-coloured. There are so many bites that the stinging pain in each one rolls together into one glorious throbbing sensation on each leg and David is achingly hard, cock twitching every time the muscles in his thighs shift. 

“So,” Patrick says casually, his hands resting lightly on David’s knees, “I realised today that I don’t think I compliment you enough.”

David blinks as he struggles to focus on the words. “What?” he manages, bewildered.

Patrick’s hands start moving, light circular strokes around David’s kneecap, and it shouldn’t be sexual but David can feel his dick responding to the touch. “I don’t think I compliment you enough, David,” he repeats steadily. “And I know you like being told how good you are. So I thought, while I’ve got you exactly where I want you, that I might tell you all the nice things I think about you.” He looks up, face shifting into concern when he sees something in David’s expression. “If that’s okay?” he adds hesitantly. 

David squirms, breaking eye contact to roll his eyes back into his head as he tries to stop his mind from spinning. He feels  _ ridiculous. _ Someone wanting to compliment him in bed shouldn’t make him feel like he wants to crawl out of his skin, but this is far more terrifying than being flogged or tied up or cropped. He has plenty of experience with people telling him what they think he wants to hear in order to get something from him; intellectually he knows Patrick isn’t like that, and yet— 

“I just, um,” he tells the ceiling. “I don’t…” he squeezes his eyes shut and rushes out a breath. “Can you just — not say anything you don’t mean? Please?” 

Patrick’s fingers tighten around his knee before letting go and then he’s hovering over David, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Hey,” he says softly, waiting until David opens his eyes. “I promise, David. Anything I say to you tonight — it’s all stuff I’m thinking pretty much all the time. Okay?”

He looks so hopeful and sincere, David can’t help but believe him despite nearly two decades of sexual experience screaming at him not to. “Okay,” he whispers, and Patrick smiles.

“Safeword’s there if you need it,” he says before kissing his way down David’s neck to his collarbone. He bites into the soft skin there, not enough to leave a mark but enough to make David gasp and buck his hips. “I think, given the day we’ve had, I should start with your fashion sense.”

David groans, throwing his head back against the pillow. “You’re making fun,” he says, but Patrick shakes his head quickly. 

“I’m not,” he says. “You look gorgeous in everything you wear.”

David huffs. “It’s designer; it’s meant to make you look good.”

Patrick hums, kissing along to the other side of David’s chest. “Maybe. But a lot of people would get lost in those clothes, or… or look like they wore what some website told them to wear. The way you dress is  _ deliberate.  _ It broadcasts your mood, your comfort level. It’s incredible, David. I know people who can’t do that with actual  _ words, _ and here you are doing it with a wardrobe.”

David just stares at him, mouth hanging open. How does Patrick — eight button-ups in varying shades of blue Patrick — see all that?

Patrick trails kisses down David’s side, just firm enough that it doesn’t tickle, and across his hip. Then he pauses, sitting back. 

“Hmm,” he says carefully, and David jolts as far upright as he can with his wrists secured. 

“What?” he asks, unable to stop his voice rising in panic. 

Patrick looks up at him, smiling. “Nothing’s wrong, I promise. I just realised what I was intending to do isn’t… logistically possible.” His mouth twists ruefully. “It’s fine, though, I have a plan B.” And then he jumps off the bed to grab the lube out of the bedside drawer, tossing it haphazardly onto the bed where it lands near David’s foot before settling back into his previous position. He coats his fingers in lube and circles one around David’s hole, teasing the rim until David is writhing underneath it before finally sliding a finger inside him. The pace Patrick sets is slow and steady but the movement of his arm brings it brushing up against David’s thigh, coaxing a groan out of him.

“You’re so smart,” Patrick says quietly, and David scoffs because — seriously?

“I’m not the numbers guy,” he retorts, and Patrick quirks a smile at him.

“David, the way your brain works is amazing,” he replies. “I can’t start at the end like you do. To envisage something fully formed and then just figure out how to make it happen? That’s incredible. I’m in awe of it. And it’s not just that — I’ve seen you memorise ingredients lists, I’ve listened while you’ve rattled off some really detailed information to customers, I’ve heard you work out a tax-inclusive price  _ in your head. _ You’re brilliant.” 

David swallows hard. He’s not— he’s never— but before he can finalise the thought Patrick is crooking his finger a little and picking up the pace, making him thrust his hips up involuntarily. His cock is throbbing and he can feel the heat of it against his stomach, but Patrick is apparently in no hurry.

“You work so hard,” Patrick says, “as long as it’s not before 10am,” but he presses a laughing kiss into David’s knee before David can react — and it’s not like he could argue, really. “David, so many people would have just given up, when they learned about your galleries. You didn’t. You knew your idea was a brilliant one, and you knew you’d be doing it on your own for the first time in your life and you just  _ did.” _

“I didn’t do it on my own,” David objects sharply. 

“But you could have,” Patrick says, and when David opens his mouth to protest this outright lie he crooks a finger again, making David hiss. “David, you would have been just fine without me, because you were determined to make it succeed. You brought all the vendors on board, you figured out deals that work for everyone. Rose Apothecary wouldn’t exist without you; I’m just proud to be involved.”

David squeezes his eyes shut to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill. “That’s a lovely thing to say,” he chokes out. “It’s just that, um, I can’t help but notice these are all personality-based? Which is, you know, appreciated, but I guess I’m kind of wondering if it’s because you can’t think of any honest compliments about the way I look?”

As soon as he says it, he wishes he could take it back; Patrick freezes before carefully sliding his finger out and David immediately panics.  _ Needy, demanding, annoying. _ “It’s fine, I’m not—”

Patrick shakes his head, surging up to meet David’s lips. It’s a soft, gentle kiss; one more at home on a first date than when someone is spread-eagled on a bed. Then he catches David’s gaze, his eyes warm and earnest, and everything in David is screaming to squirm away from a look that intense but he can hardly even bring himself to blink.

“David,” Patrick says quietly. “I want to take my time with you tonight.” And David starts nodding frantically, not even caring that Patrick is blatantly changing the subject because  _ yes, please. _ He wants that, wants to stretch out his time with Patrick as long as possible, tonight and in general.

“And,” Patrick continues, “as soon as I start talking about how good your body is, I’m going to  _ need _ to come.” His voice goes a little wild towards the end of the sentence, as if just thinking about it is enough to chip away at his self-control, and the truth of it sends sparks shooting through David’s belly. “So I’m going to keep doing this until I’m good and ready, and you’re going to be a good boy, and listen, and believe me. Aren’t you?”

“Fuck,” David whimpers, the corners of his eyes stinging. “Yes, I’ll be good,” he adds when Patrick just raises his eyebrows.

“Thank you, David,” Patrick says, kissing him again before moving back to sit on his heels again. He adds more lube to his hand and without preamble, slides two fingers into him, causing David to gasp as he adjusts.

“You organise one hell of a games night,” Patrick grins, and David huffs out a laugh.

“You just liked it because we won,” he grins. The game night at Ray’s had been the first time he’d really seen Patrick’s competitive side come out to play, and it had been… interesting.

Patrick shrugs. “It didn’t hurt. But — you have strong opinions about how things should go, but you’re usually right.” He shifts the angle of his fingers, causing the lightest brush against David’s prostate that shoots through him like lightning bolts.

“You’re kind,” Patrick says, and David shoots him a disbelieving look. “When it matters,” he amends, grinning, but it soon softens into a genuine smile again. “When it comes down to it, behind this whole standoffish front you put on, you’re kind and generous and loyal to the people you care about. You’ll do anything for them — you might complain the whole time, but you’ll still do it.”

David shakes his head, but Patrick starts thrusting his fingers faster and David’s objections float away in a haze, his dick steadily spurting precome.

“You don’t let your past define you,” Patrick tells him. “You’ve been through so much, David, but you keep moving forward, keep working to improve yourself, you take risks and you try new things. It’s incredibly brave.”

There’s a long pause. “You make me feel brave,” Patrick finally says quietly. And David tries, he really does, but he can’t stop a couple of tears from falling at that. “You’re a good friend, and a good son, and everything you’ve done for your sister is amazing. From everything I’ve heard, you’re incredible in a crisis. People are better for knowing you.”

David chokes back a sob and Patrick notices, of course he notices. He always notices. “David, what’s your colour?”

“Green,” David whispers, surprised by how quick his answer is. Patrick smiles and presses a few soft kisses to David’s thigh before adding a third finger, thrusting sharply into David and pushing hard against his prostate. With the other hand he presses his fingers into some of the hickeys on David’s thigh and David is trembling, so close, just the briefest of touches to his dick and he could— 

“You’re a nice person, David Rose,” Patrick whispers as he twists the fingers inside him, and then David’s hips are bucking up as he comes hard, completely untouched. He cries out as his vision whites out at the edges, ribbons of come coating his stomach as he trembles through it. The hand of Patrick’s that isn’t inside him strokes soothing circles into his thigh as he comes back to himself, and then Patrick slowly pulls his fingers out. He reaches for the restraints and David is struck by a sudden, visceral feeling of  _ no, not yet. _

“Wait, don’t,” he says and Patrick pauses, hands hovering awkwardly. “You said… do you need to come, now?”

Patrick’s eyes darken. “You want me to keep you tied up while I talk about your body?” He starts stroking himself slowly, eyes locked on David. “Want me to jerk off while I tell you how fucking hot you are?”

David grits his teeth. He does want that, actually, but more than that— 

“Fuck my face,” he chokes out. “Fuck my face, and tell me—  _ please, _ Patrick.”

Patrick’s hand stills and David squeezes his eyes shut, fighting the  _ too much, too much _ flooding through him. When he opens them again, though, he realises Patrick is gripping the base of his cock tightly, biting his lip in concentration. He’s clearly fighting hard to hang on to some semblance of control and if David hadn’t just come, like, thirty seconds ago, he’s pretty sure the sight would be enough to get him going again.

Patrick’s gaze flickers to the wrist restraints. “You’ve been in these for a while, David,” he says, brow furrowed in concern, but then he smiles. “How about this. I’ll take you out of them, and we can change positions a bit. Instead of restraining you, you can just be good and keep your hands exactly where I tell you while I— while I do that. Okay?”

David feels a sudden, almost overwhelming rush of affection for Patrick. Someone putting David’s comfort ahead of their own pleasure is still something of a foreign concept to him; the fact that Patrick does so automatically and without even a hint of resentment is nothing short of amazing. Add to that the delightful contradiction of Patrick’s dominating side coming out full force, yet him still being apparently unwilling to say the words  _ fuck your face _ — well, David is undeniably grateful to be here, in this moment, with this man. 

Patrick uncuffs him and flexes his fingers back and forth before pressing a kiss to each wrist. He scrambles back off the bed to stand to the side of it and David follows his lead, sprawling sideways across the bed on his back with his head hanging off the side and his legs bent to brace himself. He spreads his arms out to the side, palms flat and facing down, and Patrick grins at him; somehow, it’s even cuter upside down.

“That’s so good, David,” he says quietly. “Keep them right there unless you need to tap out, okay?” He winds one hand into David’s hair, and with the other strokes his cheek before pressing two fingers to his lips; David takes the hint and opens his mouth nice and wide. Patrick slides his cock into David’s waiting mouth, moaning as the head slips past his lips, and David lets his throat relax as much as he can.

He sees the way Patrick’s gaze fixates on the bulge in David’s throat where his cock is pushing in and then he’s running his fingers down the same spot his eyes are roving, so gentle it’s almost a caress. Unthinkingly, David raises his chest a little to press his neck into the touch, applying more delicious pressure to his windpipe; Patrick’s fingers tighten for just a second before he lets go, pulling his hand away entirely. But the look he’s giving David isn’t shocked or upset — it’s calculating, and David suppresses a shiver at the knowledge that Patrick has picked up on something David likes, and will most likely go away and research and come back with clarifying questions that are almost a form of foreplay in themselves. 

“You’re so fucking hot, David,” Patrick groans as he puts his other hand in David’s hair and tugs. He doesn’t have any kind of steady rhythm, hips stuttering as he fucks in and out, and David can tell he’s not going to last long. He swallows around Patrick’s cock as it slides down into his throat, his eyes leaking from the intrusion, and sucks in a breath whenever he gets a chance. Otherwise, he’s just hanging on for the ride as Patrick lets his words tumble out; as far as David can tell it’s unchecked, fragmented thoughts that he gasps out as he thrusts frantically into David’s waiting mouth.

“You have no idea what you look like — the way you move, it makes me think of sex  _ all the time,  _ it’s fucking distracting — your forearms are so hot, I don’t know why you hide them under those sweaters all the time — oh my God, your jaw, your stubble, your  _ smile,  _ drives me fucking crazy — such a great fucking ass, God, every time you bend over in front of me at the store I just — oh, your shoulders, your back, I love fucking you from behind and watching the muscles in your back move — your thighs, fuck, David, your thighs, they’re so muscular, fuck, David, David, I’m—”

And David tries to swallow it all, he really does, but the angle is all weird and Patrick’s deeper than he’d normally be to swallow but not deep enough that it goes straight down his throat and there is  _ so much fucking come, _ so David coughs and splutters and Patrick pulls away, immediately contrite, stroking himself through the end of his orgasm as David flips himself onto his stomach and swallows everything that’s still in his mouth.

Patrick collapses onto the bed face first, head landing somewhere near David’s ribcage. “Holy shit,” he mumbles into the mattress. David gives him a minute before pulling him up off the bed and into the shower where they kiss until the water runs cold, David trying to press all his gratitude for everything Patrick said about him into his tongue.

* * *

David wakes up the next morning to Patrick’s cock pressing insistently against his back and his hands exploring David’s chest. “You’re so sexy, David,” he mumbles as his hands travel further south, and David is surprised to find he believes it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com).


End file.
